Authors: Fern Michaels
“And you never told me that either?”
“Nope.”
“What else haven’t you told me?”
“I think that about clears my conscience. I’d give Jake’s money back, but I don’t know who to give it to.”
“Try the boys across the street. I bet you all the gold in that truck if you march across the street and ask any one of those five owners if they remember a Jake and a large amount of money disappearing, they’ll own up.”
“How will I know if they’re telling the truth?”
“Let them tell you the story. It’s like fishing, you throw out the line with some good bait and you wait to see if it’s snatched up.”
“I can do that. It’s a princely sum of money.”
“I’ll just bet it is. Fanny, you never cease to amaze me.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
Fanny went back to work. Ash was bug-eyed as he continued to watch her.
“That’s the last of it,” Fanny said a long time later. “I think my back is breaking. I want to ... to walk through. It will only take me a few minutes. Do you mind, Ash?”
“Not at all.”
“The heater is on in the truck. Get in. I’ll take your chair back to the garage.”
The fierce protectiveness Ash felt toward Fanny surfaced again. “You look like a tired old dog, Fanny. Let it go.”
“I feel like a tired old dog. I can’t let it go. I have to . . . I have to do this. There might be something. I want something. I need to ... walk away knowing there’s one small thing left. I don’t expect you to understand. I understand, and that’s all that is important. I won’t be long.”
Ash rolled his window up. He rolled it down minutes later when he heard Fanny’s joyous shout.
“Ash! Ash! I found Sallie’s old desk! One of the legs is burned through. It’s burned and scarred all over, but it’s here. I can’t get it down, though. Her slate board is here too.”
Ash could feel his shoulders start to crumple. Great heart-wrenching sobs shook his body. Of all the things in the world to be saved, his mother’s desk. The desk where she had toiled to become the woman she was.
Fanny climbed into the truck. “It’s okay, Ash. We can rebuild Sunrise now. We have something that belongs here. It’s probably the most important thing of all. I’ll have Chue get it down, and I’ll find the best furniture refinisher there is to restore it. I could still see her initials in the corner where she scratched them. S.C. for Sallie Coleman. I don’t feel so bad now.”
Ash’s voice was choked when he said, “Fanny, what if I don’t live long enough to see it finished?”
“Don’t even think such a thing, Ash Thornton. I give you my personal word you will not only see it finished, you will live here again. I never broke a promise to you, did I?”
“No, Fanny, you never did. That’s good enough for me. I feel like singing. Do you feel like singing, Fanny?”
“I feel like singing, Ash.”
“Off we go into the wild blue yonder . . .”
Please God, don’t make me a liar. Let me keep my promise.
“Climbing high, into the sky . . .”
“I must be getting old, Charlie,” Ash said to the bartender. “The noise is really getting to me. I don’t think I ever saw so many people in one place in my whole life.”
“It’s the Christmas season and Mrs. Thornton’s decorations. It’s going to be like this till after New Year’s. Guess that mountain of yours is pretty quiet, eh. Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Thornton?”
“A ginger ale will be fine,” Ash said, craning his neck to see his grandson being led off by Billie and Thad Kingsley. He relaxed as he reached out to accept the soft drink.
“There was a lady in here earlier looking for you, Mr. Thornton. A real looker. She reminded me of someone, but I can’t put my finger on it. She asked for you specifically. She came in right after the doors opened. Did she find you?”
Ash shrugged. “Did she have a name, Charlie?”
“No. I just told her you were here somewhere. She said she’d find you. The night’s still young.” Ash shrugged again. He lit a cigarette as he continued to make small talk with the bartender and the customers lined up at the bar.
An hour later when the noise and the smoke started to bother him, Ash steered his chair away from the bar and out to the floor. His eyes raked the crowds for a sign of Fanny and Billie. He turned again when he felt a light touch to his shoulder.
“Mr. Thornton?”
Ash looked up. Charlie was right, she was a looker. If this was the woman asking for him earlier. “I’m Ash Thornton. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Is there someplace we can go where it’s a little more quiet?” Her voice was soft, cultured, almost musical.
“Follow me. I think my office might be a little more quiet. Have we met before?”
“No. We should have, but no, we never met.”
Charlie was right, she reminded him of someone. He said so. The woman laughed, the sound as musical as her speaking voice. Ash opened the door to his office, the chair whirring through the oversize opening. He turned so that he was facing her. “I’m afraid you have the advantage. You know me, but I don’t know you. Can I order you a drink from the bar?”
“No thank you. I’m Ruby Thornton. I’m your sister. Half sister, actually. The shocked look on your face tells me you didn’t know about me.”
“Whoa,” Ash said holding up his hand, palm out. “You can’t just waltz in here and drop something like that on me.”
“Why not? Because it’s Christmas? Because my mother and father kept my birth a secret? I know everything there is to know about you and Simon. You two were the princes living in the castle and I was the scullery maid living in a brothel. My mother kept scrapbooks on you and Simon. My mother was Red Ruby, my father was your father. Does that explain why I look so much like Simon?”
“Now, hold on here,” Ash blustered.
“My mother and our father made a deal. I guess it was the same kind of deal you made with Margaret Lassiter. I know about Jeff. My mother was in a position to know everything there is to know about the people in this town. She left a detailed diary when she died. I might publish it someday. Do you find it amusing that your mother and my mother were . . . ladies of the night? As well as friends.”
“My father would have told me about you. He never kept anything from me.”
“Like you told him about Margaret Lassiter. He knew though. My mother told him. I think he was a little more comfortable with his secret after that.”
“Spit it out, what do you want?”
“My share.”
“Of what?”
“Everything. I think I’m entitled. A third of your parents’ estate. I think that’s fair. Your mother knew about me. They sent me to Boston to school. I came home summers when mother closed the . . . business. I was never permitted to come home on the holidays. One year my mother would visit me at Christmas and the next year it would be my father. It was the same with Easter and Thanksgiving. I wanted to know you and Simon so bad. I wanted to tell the world I had two big brothers, but I wasn’t allowed to do that. I stayed on in Boston, got my master’s and my Ph.D. Your mother didn’t like that one little bit. Your mother was so beautiful compared to my own mother. I used to pretend she was my mother. I knew if she’d been my mother, she wouldn’t have kept me hidden. I cried myself to sleep for many years.”
“How old are you?”
The trilling laughter seemed to tickle the walls. Ash found himself shivering. “Does it matter? Here, this is what you probably want to see. Everything’s in it, my birth certificate, your father’s will, Mom’s will. The contract Dad had with Mom. I inherited Thornton Chickens, did you know that?”
Ash cleared his throat. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“I want a third of everything in that old iron safe on the mountain.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible. My mother left all that, including the mountain, to Fanny, my ex-wife. My father died first, leaving everything to my mother. She in turn made a new will and did what she wanted.”
“My father made a later will. There’s a copy of it in the envelope.”
“Why are you coming forward now? Why do you want to rake up the past? Are you in this . . . scheme with Simon? It would be just like him to pull something like this.”
“No, I haven’t talked to Simon. I came to you because you were the older brother. My mother died last year. I’ve spent the year trying to decide what to do. I don’t know if you’ll understand this or not, but . . . I always wanted a real family. Everyone at school had nice normal families. I made one up. I had two handsome older brothers who were flying aces during the war. My mother was beautiful, warm, and gentle, and my father was a bookish professor who adored me. I told everyone they traveled all over the world and that’s why they were never at school on visitors’ day. He did, you know. Adore me, I mean. He used to send the most wonderful, creative presents, and he’d always sign the card, Love, Daddy. He was truly proud of my accomplishments. Much the way he was of yours.”
Ash scanned the papers in his lap. She appeared to be telling the truth. A chill ran down his spine. Fanny said her life paralleled his mother’s in so many ways. Now, here he was, experiencing the exact same thing. The chill seemed to settle around his lower extremities, causing a numb feeling in his legs. The urge to smash something was so great he gripped the arms of the wheelchair, his knuckles as white as the shirt he was wearing.
“Well?”
“Well what? I’ll speak to my lawyer. I’m sure something can be worked out. If my mother wanted you to share in Thornton Enterprises, she would have done so. It was her decision, not mine and not Simon’s. Dad . . . the lawyers can handle it. I think you’ll have a fight on your hands.”
“I’m prepared for that. Understand something, all of this”—Ruby said waving her hands about—“is through no fault of mine. Our father, your mother, my mother, they did this. You might not like it, but you are my family. I’d like to get to know my nieces and nephews. I’d like to believe they would want to meet an aunt if they knew they had one. My mother was a whore, your mother was a whore, and yet we shared the same father. This is not about money.”
“The hell it isn’t. Everything, when it comes down to the bottom line, is about money. I busted my ass for this casino, and I’m not about to give it up to you or anyone else, sister or not. You got Thornton Chickens? You didn’t see me showing up on your doorstep making a claim. Another thing, whatever my father had came from my mother. He was a schoolteacher, and he didn’t have a pot to piss in. My mother was the one with the money There’s no court in this land that will give you what’s ours. And, it is ours, make no mistake. Have your attorney get in touch with Clementine Fox. She represents this family,” Ash lied. Clem could find him a lawyer. Since she represented Fanny it would be a conflict of interest for her to step in where Ruby Thornton was concerned. Ash thought he saw a flicker of fear in the gray eyes at the mention of Clem’s name. If it was fear, it was gone a second later.
“Oh, there is one other little thing,” Ash said. “My mother pulled your mother out of the gutter. She set her up at the ranch. She did right by Red and we can prove it. This town takes care of its own.”
“So I’ve heard. But I have the book. You know the book I’m talking about. All those upstanding citizens from here, there, and yonder. Does that fall under this town taking care of its own?”
“I wouldn’t mess with that if I were you. Red was an honorable woman, and she would never have done what you just said. That red book was for her eyes only, and you damn well know it. You could ruin a lot of families if you do something foolish.”
“Then those
families
aren’t worth much, are they? The key word here is family, is that right?”
“That’s right. I wish you had just walked in here and said you were my sister. I always wanted a sister. In his own way I think Simon did, too. This family has always been generous to a fault. We’re all givers. I wasn’t for a long time. I had to learn how to do that. We don’t bow or bend to pressure and intimidation. You don’t appear to be a stupid woman.”
“I’m not. I just want what’s mine.”
“Well, lady, you’re shit out of luck because you ain’t gettin’ one cent from this family.”
“Ash . . . Mr. Thornton . . . please, I want you to understand where I’m coming from. You’re my family. I have a right to be here. I have as much right to all of this,” she said, waving her arms about, “as you do. Legally and morally.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You were right about Jeffrey Lassiter. Yes, he is my son. He doesn’t bear my name, but I did take responsibility for him. I will never deny him in a court of law. My father . . . my father rubbed you under my mother’s nose. That’s the only way he could make up for her not loving him. My father used you. He didn’t love your mother any more than I loved Margaret Lassiter. It never should have happened, but it did. I dealt with it. You have to deal with it, too.”
“My case is different. Our father loved me. My mother loved him. I don’t know if Philip loved her or not. There were times when I thought he did. I do know they were wonderful friends for many, many years. I think a jury and a court of law will make the right decision.”
“I doubt it. There’s not a person in this town who isn’t aware of where my mother’s money came from. My father, your father, had nothing to do with it. It was my mother’s decision on how to divide her money at the end. She was more than generous in giving your mother a million-dollar company As long as you own that company, you will never want for anything. It will support you and provide a very luxurious lifestyle. The ranch is yours, too, thanks to my mother. A jury will view you as a greedy bitch trying to put the bite on the Thorntons.”
“I’m a Thornton, too.”
“In this town you’re from the other side of the tracks. I will not allow you to come in here and disturb our lives. For a woman as educated as you say you are, you must realize how foolish this is. What I’m trying to say without being cruel is you don’t belong here. We have our lives; you have yours. If it’s recognition you want, I’ll tell the world I have a sister. That’s as far as I’m willing to go.”
“That isn’t far enough.”